All That Keeps Me Going
by itssleviosa
Summary: Draco's thoughts through the years on one Hermione Granger, his sworn enemy...one true love...wait. no. he did not just think that.


**A/N: I'm not usually a super huge dramione shipper so this fic really took me by suprise. I kinda like where it went though. enjoy :)**

**disclaimer: all the characters in this story belong to the one and only lovely J.K. Rowling**

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1st year

Granger drives me crazy. I despise her. She answers every question correctly. Passes every test with top marks. Without fail. I cannot stand it that a filthy mudblood is better than me. The great Draco Malfoy. My father will murder me. Bushy hair, brown eyes, buckteeth, mudblood. Everything about her annoys me. She's like a constant itch that I can't scratch. I was supposed to be the best at everything. The pureblood king. I cannot let her take that from me. I watch her from across the room. Her hand shoots in the air every two seconds. Know-it-all. I hate her and I hate stupid Potter with his stupid scar and stupid broom-stick and stupid Quidditch team and I hate Weasley with his… Oh never mind. Weasley doesn't have anything. I just hate him. But I hate Granger most of all.

2nd year

Granger is petrified. I could not be more pleased. Maybe this year I'll have a chance at being top in the class. Although I do have to admit, it is a little boring in class without her. It was so fun to watch her make a spectacle of herself. Now that she's gone I have nothing to do. Am I actually expected to pay attention in class? I already know all this stuff. At least watching Granger was something to amuse myself with. Now I'm just bored. Huh that's weird. It's almost like I miss her or something. I did not just think that. There is no way I miss Granger. The idea is laughable. I hate know-it-all Granger and her stupid friends. At least this year I will be first in the class. If she stays petrified, maybe I will be for the rest of my time at Hogwarts. Now there's a pleasant though.

3rd year

Granger slapped me! She actually slapped me and it hurt. Not that I'm telling anyone that it hurt. It did though. I wasn't actually pleased to see the beast executed. That was mostly my fathers doing and encouragement. The beast did hurt me pretty badly, no matter what Potter and Weasley may think. The oaf Hagrid warned me though. I was kind of an idiot. I always am. Of course Zabini had to go and tell my father what happened. He always does that. Zabini annoys me. Although admittedly Parkinson annoys me more. She annoys me even more than Granger and that's saying something. Granger is only second to Parkinson. And then Weasley. Then Potter. Then Zabini. Then, then, then. The list goes on and on. When did I become annoyed so easily? I'll have to work to fix that.

4th year

I am supposed to hate her. So why can't I stop thinking about her? Again the moment plays over in my mind and I watch her descend the stairs in her periwinkle blue dress through my minds eye. I didn't even recognize her at first. To me she had always been bushy haired mudblood Granger. The only girl in the school with smarts to match my own. The girl who made a spectacle of herself in class. Yet recently I'd started watching her more and more. I'd catch myself doing it and chastise myself. She is a mudblood. By family law I not supposed to go anywhere near her, let alone look at her like this. What is wrong with me? I must be going insane. No she's still bushy haired Granger. The mudblood. Yet for some reason that bushy hair is starting to look more and more appealing, especially now that she's learned exactly how to mess it up. What I'd give to run my fingers through it. No. I did not just think that. I cannot afford to think that. My father will kill me if he finds out I'm thinking like that. I watch her from across the classroom. She's sitting too close to that Weasley boy. He's looking at her too much. Looking at her in the way I know I have starting doing. My face scrunches up with anger every time I think of him. Good for nothing Weasley. Good for nothing Potter. Good for everything Granger. What am I going to do?

5th year

I've taken to watching her. Studying her, even. I try to notice her little habits. Memorize her expressions. So that if one day I end up talking to her, really talking to her, I will know exactly what she's thinking. She's talking to Weasley again and he's looking at her with that pitiful love-struck expression I have come to know well. She runs a hand through her hair. That means she's frustrated. Good. She stands up and walks out of the room. I know her well enough to know that she must be going to the library. I stand up to follow. I'm surprised she hasn't noticed that I follow her around so much. It's pathetic, I know. Something about her makes me feel the need to study her. To analyze her every move. She's has infected my mind and she won't get out. I sigh and sit back down. Zabini was looking at me funny. I think he's noticed. I can't afford him saying something to my father. I'll have to play it low for a while. Pretend to flirt with Parkinson. I can't stand her. She's so obnoxious. Nothing at all like Hermione. Wait did I just think Hermione. Since when has she been Hermione? This has gone too far. Granger, I think firmly. She must remain Granger.

6th year

I'm dating Parkinson. I'm miserable. I did it to get over Granger. It's not working. Weasley kissed Brown. I have seen the affects on Hermione. I mean Granger. She cries a lot. I've never seen her like this. I would like nothing more than to punch Weasley. Well, I have always wanted to hex Weasley, but this is different. I feel the need to inflict physical pain on him for doing this to her. I want to talk to her. I will talk to her, I decide. I will comfort her. I can't stand to see her this way. Hermione has always been so strong. No, I correct myself. Granger has always been so strong. This whole Hermione business is going to get me in trouble. I was talking to Crabbe yesterday and I said Hermione. He looked at me funny and asked who Hermione was. I am glad he didn't know, but I can't afford to make the same mistake around Zabini or Parkinson. They're much smarter. I will ask to be put on the same prefect patrol as Granger. Anything to get her away from Weasley. And then I will talk to her. I will talk to a mudblood as an equal for the first time.

Still Sixth year

"Granger." I say nodding curtly at her.

"Malfoy." She says nodding back.

Her saying my name sends a thrill through my body. I shiver. She notices unfortunately.

"Are you cold Malfoy?"

"No. Are you?" She pauses, bites her lip, and then shakes her head.

"You're lying," I say.

"And why would you think that?" She says. And although there's a fire behind the words that some would mistake as anger, I recognize it as a driving curiosity.

"Because you bit your lip. You always do that when you're lying."

I smirk, satisfied with the look of shock on her face.

"You just smirked. You always do that when you're satisfied or enjoying other peoples surprise."

It's my turn to look surprised. We stare at each other for a long moment and then look away.

"Here," I say, "take my jacket" I slip it off and hold it out to her.

She studies me for a moment too long, thrilling me, then takes the jacket.

"Thanks, Draco," she says softly.

I look at her, eyes wide. My brain is shooting off fireworks. I tell it to shut up. Isn't it only supposed to send off fireworks if I kiss someone? She isn't even touching me. This is out of control.

"What did you just call me?"

"Oh. Sorry. Thanks Malfoy."

"No. Its okay, Hermione. You can call me Draco."

Its her turn to look at me with wide eyes. Wide innocent eyes, which have seen too much. That understand too much. They draw me in.

"Hey. I just wanted to say. I'm sorry about Weasley."

She turns sharply. "What?"

"I. Am. Sorry. About. Weasley." I say slowly enunciating each syllable. "I know it upsets you."

She turns to me laughter in her eyes. "I. Am. Sorry. About. Parkinson."

"What?" It's my turn to be shocked. I had made up that I had caught Parkinson with Zabini and spread the rumor so it didn't seem strange when I broke up with her. I couldn't stand lying anymore.

"God Draco," she whispers, "you are so thick sometimes. I wasn't upset about Weasley. I was upset about you."

Oh. Wait what? Not possible. Oooh. This can't be true.

"You're lying to me because you want to see how much you can hurt evil Malfoy. The Malfoy you slapped. The Malfoy you hate."

"Does it look like I'm lying?" She asks.

I look at her. And am absorbed into her eyes again. I can't help myself. I kiss her. My bones are on fire. This is what a kiss is supposed to feel like. Not those messes I had with Parkinson. My hand is running through her hair, like it did in all my fantasies. I am dreaming. I will wake up in the morning and none of this will have happened. She pulls back and smiles a little.

"You know it will never work."

"Yes," I sigh as my brain fights a war against the decision. I can still feel her lips on mine, my hand in her hair. I pull myself back to reality. "I know." I say, "but at least we have tonight." One night before I need to worry about the impossible task of killing Dumbledore. No matter how much I don't want to, it needs to be done or else the Dark Lord will kill my family. For now I have this one night with Granger. No Hermione. I have this one night with Hermione.

7th year

It's been a year since I kissed her. I still think about it every day. It's all that keeps me going through this horror. The thought that she's still alive and fighting. Because as long as she's fighting the Dark Lord, maybe this world still has a chance. I hope with all my heart that she doesn't get caught. My horrid Aunt is calling me. I run outside and nearly fall over in shock. It's her. With Potter and Weasley. She's so beautiful, even cut up. No, stop. I cannot be thinking about that at a time like this. I have to figure out how to help her. Potter's barely recognizable so maybe they still have a chance. Bellatrix is asking me if it really is Potter.

"I can't be sure." I respond. No, I chastise myself. Wrong response. I should have said no. It's not Potter because then it could not be Hermione.

They're talking about torturing her. I can't stand this. I think I will throw something. Hex a million people. I will not see her hurt. Potter and Weasley can be useless for all I care, but I will not. I will help her. I will make sure she gets out alive. And for her sake, I will make sure Potter and Weasley get out alive too. My brain is running in circles. I'm not stupid enough to outright attack my Aunt and all the death eaters present. Who can help them? The answer comes in a flash of brilliance. Dobby. He can apparate in and out of the cellar. Aberforth. I need Aberforth I run outside. Everybody else is so preoccupied with the torturing that they don't notice me dissapparate. I arrive in the bar as I have done many times before and talk to Aberforth desperately. He sends Dobby and thanks me.

"You have done a good thing today," he says "If everybody had love as strong as yours we would be lucky."

I look at him in surprise.

"Good luck," is all he says before forcing me out.

I slip back into the room. Hermione is on the floor screaming. My heart lurches in my chest. It's all I can do not to run at my Aunt. I am a Slytherin, I remind myself. I must be cunning. I'm not a Gryffindor. Running at Bellatrix now would be a stupid act of bravery. A Gryffindor act. Just as I decide that I don't care, Weasley and Potter burst into the room with Dobby. I smile and run to Hermione in the chaos. I whisper that I'm here and never leaving again. I have made my decision. The decision to be the bad boy turned good. The decision to be with Hermione whatever it takes. Because I have wanted it for so long. Because Aberforth was right.

"I love you," I whisper in her ear right before we disapparate to what I later find out is Shell Cottage.

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**A/N: please review! let me know what you think. Do you want another from Hermione's perspective? were the characters represented well?**


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